


Walls

by smalld1171



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hell references, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-04-14
Updated: 2011-07-03
Packaged: 2017-10-18 02:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smalld1171/pseuds/smalld1171
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has always kept the walls around him firmly in place. What happens when those walls start to crumble after a seemingly routine hunt?  Can Sam save his brother from himself?  Set in Season 4.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam stands with his brother looking into yet another open coffin engulfed in flames in yet another ramshackle cemetery in yet another small town in somewhere U.S.A. Another vengeful spirit, another successful hunt, another town saved, another battle where Dean is left battered and bruised.

He chances a glance over to his left, quietly taking in the state of his brother. Thankful that Dean still seems to be concentrating on the fire and not feeling his stare, the youngest Winchester takes a moment to inventory his brother's latest battle scars. Head...bleeding. Face...bruising. Right hand...wrapped around his waist. Left hand...gripping the headstone so tight his knuckles are white. Field evaluation done, Sam decides it's time to go so he can get a better look at his big brother back at the motel.

"Dean?"

No response, eyes still staring into the fire.

"Dean, you OK, man?"

A flinch, a blink, another blink.

"I'm fine Sammy, just enjoying the campfire for a minute. Got any marshmellows?"

There's the smirk and Sam knows Dean is busy getting his walls built back up to hide the pain he's in. Gotta get going now.

"Not on me but I think I left a stash back at the motel... which is where we should be headin'."

No acknowledgment, just staring into the fire.

"We should start bringin' mellows on our hunts. I love mellows, charred...burning...burnt."

Definiteley not okay. Concussion maybe?

"Oh..kay but not today. Time to go."

"Gotta make sure it's dead. Gotta make sure it stays dead. Gotta make sure it doesn't hurt anyone else. Gotta make sure."

This is going to be harder than he thought. He hates to pull out the 'Sammy' card but he needs to get Dean back to the motel to have a good look at him.

"It's dead Dean, not gonna hurt anyone else. Salted, burned, taken care of. But me, I am feelin' really burnt out and in need of some rest. We've been on our feet all day, tracking, hunting and if I don't get to rest soon I might just collapse."

Sam is startled at the quickness in which his brother turns towards him. Not lost on him however is the fact that if Dean hadn't been gripping the headstone he was pretty sure he would have done a face plant right then and there. What did he see in Dean's eyes? Panic? Oh, that is just not good.

"You okay Sammy? Are you hurt? Did it get you? Why didn't you tell me? What did it do to you? I'm sorry, I didn't notice, why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling okay?"

Definitely not pulling out the Sammy card again anytime soon. That had been a bad idea. Dean is busy looking into Sam's eyes, looking him over, trying to find the wounds that he thought he'd missed, that he didn't notice, that he didn't bother to check for earlier. Wild eyes search and search until Sam reaches out a hand to his brother's shoulder and squeezes.

"Dean! Look, calm down, I am fine. No wounds, you didn't miss anything. I am just tired, that's all."

Sam looks directly into Dean's eyes, willing him to look into his. When their eyes lock, he hope he has him.

"I think you and I both need to get some rest. I think you and I both need to get back to the motel, clean ourselves up and relax. Understand what I am saying to you?"

A blink. Another blink. A slight tilt of the head.

"Of course I understand what you are saying to me! God Sam, I am not an idiot you know!"

Sam notices the wince that accompanies his brother's outburst and figures that his head must really be pounding. Biting back the urge within him to confront Dean on the pain he knows he is in, on how he is acting kinda strange, and how he knows he isn't fine, Sam opts to leave it alone. All that would accomplish would be Dean's usual lines about how he is fine and that he is acting like he always acts..and so on... and so on. And, Sam really wants nothing more than to get to the car, get outta this damn cemetery, get back to the motel and try and figure out what is going on with his brother. And, right now, the gettin' seems as good as it will ever get.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

"Let's get outta here Sam, I think we need to get outta here."

Sam feels relief in that fact that it's Dean taking the lead on leaving although the sound of his voice is odd...scared? Well, he won't worry about that now, he is just glad he won't have to grab his brother to get him moving.

"Sure, sounds like a plan. You go ahead, I'll grab our gear and be right behind you."

As Sam walks off to get their bags, thankful they are within a few steps reach, he keeps an eye on Dean as he pushes himself off from the headstone. As he sways slightly, quickly regains his balance, takes one step forward and stops. Sam's face crinkles with concern as he sees his brother close his eyes and bring his left hand up to his face, briefly rubbing at his eyes, while his right arm still drapes across his gut. Dean shakes his head and takes another tentative step. It's agonizing to watch the grimace appear on the face of his older brother with each movement he makes but knowing how stubborn his brother can be he doesn't comment on that. But, then again, maybe a little comment won't hurt.

"Okay, got our stuff. Are you doing alright, I thought you'd be at the car already."

"Well, didn't want to leave you alone out here, I know how scared of the dark you are Sammy. Don't worry, big brother is here, I won't let anything happen to you. Plus, I'm not sure but I think maybe I am not feeling 100%. My head is starting to ache. Did something happen to my head?"

Okay, now Sam feels like he is officially worried. First things first, get to the car.

"Let's get goin' and I'll tell ya all about that hard head of yours on the way back to the motel. Deal?"

Dean looks at him with a blank stare now, his glassy green eyes boring into Sam's. Sam decides that whatever is going on in Dean's head can't be good. He needs to get him the frick out of here, why are they still standing there? Just as he is about to say something to get them moving, Dean starts talking, his voice starting off in barely a whisper.

"No, no more deals, they always lead to bad things. Always. Nothing good can ever come from a deal. They are bad. Don't make any deals okay Sammy? Whatever you do, don't make any deals. Trust me, they are bad. You will hurt. You will burn. You will turn into a monster. Sammy, promise me you won't make any deals! Promise me!"

Sam feels the sting of tears as they threaten to fall, a rush of memories invade his senses. He pictures Dean laying on the floor dead, after the hellhound was finished with him. He remembers the pain that radiated off of Dean when he finally confided to his younger brother the memories of his time in Hell. He feels that same pain coming from his brother right now, and instinctively reaches out to his older sibling, hoping that a touch will bring him back to the here and now. Hand on Dean's shoulder, he searches for his eyes and when he knows his brother is looking at him he speaks in a soft and what he hopes is a comforting tone.

"I promise Dean. We really need to get out of here now okay? Are you with me bro?"

"Yeah... yeah... always with you Sammy... always."

"Good. Now please, let's get to the car okay? You look like your head is really hurting, do you need me to help you get to the car?"

And there it was. Sam's moment of weakness, thinking that since it was Dean who brought up the fact that he isn't 100% gave him the right to offer his help. Sam just never learns, that sort of thing has to be initiated by his big brother, whose face is now sporting a very, very, ugly shade of red...of rage...mixed in with blood and bruises. Sam holds his breath and waits, and it isn't long before he is facing his brother's verbal wrath.

"Jesus Sam, I am not a child! I can make it to the god damned car myself! I don't need any help from you, little brother! I have always had to rely on myself, never asking for help, never expecting any and sure the hell not deserving any! So just try to keep up, I will meet you at the car!"

Not deserving any? Sam feels suddenly helpless and lost in his own thoughts as he stares at his brother's back while he storms away. Well, maybe storms isn't the right word as Dean continues to clutch his side, and looks more like a man heading out from the nearest watering hole after drowning his sorrows as he weaves back and forth on unsteady legs. Sam quickly catches up, but lingers just far enough behind Dean so that he can react quickly when the inevitable stumble comes. He can hear grunts and moans and the occassional swear and wonders at the amazing ability adrenaline can have on someone who just moments ago could barely stay on their feet. Boy, what a stubborn ass.

Sam doesn't have to wait long for his brother's adrenaline rush to come crashing to a halt. His strong hands move instantly when he sees Dean's right leg give out under his weight. Grabbing him by the shoulders, he keeps his brother upright and circles around to see his face. Not red anymore, more of a sickly mixture of grey and green, accented by a thin layer of sweat. Sam lightly touches his brother's face and of course he feels hot. He shouldn't be surprised that his brother is now coming down with a fever, what with the combination of his head being batted around, and what are definitely at least bruised ribs. So, a fever on top of everything else? Great, just great. Frickin' figures.

And then Sam wonders, are we ever going to make it to the car?

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

"Dean? Dean, c'mon man, can you hear me?"

Sam watches as his brother tilts his head up, eyes roaming around, searching for the voice he just heard. His eyes are unfocussed and Sam is pretty sure they aren't really seeing.

"I'm right here Dean, focus on me, focus on my voice. Look at me."

His older brother blinks his eyes slowing a few times, closes them and gives his head the slightest of shakes. When he opens them once again Sam thinks he can see a flicker of clarity within them.

"S'my? Did somthin happen? Wha? What's goin on? You ok? Dad ok?" "I don't feel so good."

Sam pretends he doesn't hear the reference to dad. Not a good topic on the best of days, let alone on what is shaping up to be a weird and emotionally draining kinda day.

"I'm fine Dean, it's you who has your baby brother a little worried."

Seeing the utter confusion flash across his brother's face, Sam decides to take full advantage of Dean's momentary weakness and get him to the car once and for all.

"Hey, Dean, you trust me right?"

A nod.

"Okay, so I am going to help you up, and we are walking over to the car together and then driving back to the motel. Ready?"

Another nod.

Not wasting any more time, Sam raises Dean up from his left side and almost stumbles when he instantly feels most of Dean's weight transfer over to him. Once he has an as good as can be expected hold of his sibling, Sam sets off, big brother in tow, without saying a word. As the two Winchesters proceed across the cemetery grounds, the only sounds making it to Sam's ears are those of boots scratching across dirt and the laboured breaths eminating from Dean. He senses that his brother is on the verge of collapse or exhaustion and hopes his brother's body doesn't give out until they are at least a bit closer to the car. Sam manages to keep himself and Dean moving, not at a lightning pace, but moving. The brothers continue to walk in silence until Sam feels his brother slowing and slowing.

"Almost there Dean, just a few more feet. One step at a time, you can do it. You don't want me to have to carry you right? Somehow I don't think I would be able to let you live that down for a few months or years."

Dean doesn't respond in words but starts up again at a better pace and even though Sam has no idea what all this stress is doing to his brother's body, he can't help but smile softly and feel thankful that he knows the right buttons to push to motivate his brother. And that smile grows into a full blown grin when he finally sees the familiar shape of the Impala coming into view, getting closer and closer with each step. What do you know, he is actually happy to see it and thinks he could even stand putting in one of the cassette tapes that Dean loves so much. Finally, the two siblings are at the car and Sam lets out a well deserved sigh. He leans Dean carefully against the passenger side and allows himself a moment to take a few steady and calming breaths and hopes that his brother is able to get a moment or two of rest as well. Okay, break is over.

"Whew, that was quite a trip big brother. Now, just hand over the keys and we can get the hell out of Dodge."

Sam holds his hand out for the keys but when Dean makes no attempt to give them up he glances over and studies his brother's profile a bit closer. Hmmm... is that a smirk Sam sees ghost across Dean's face? And, was that a snort he just heard? The older Winchester turns to face his younger brother and Sam cringes slightly as he notices that the far away look Dean had plastered on his face earlier has returned with a vengence. Just what the hell is happening?

"Why would I have the keys Sammy? Since when exactly does dad let anyone else but himself hold on to them? Let alone me, his no good for nothing son? That's a good one, very funny!"

Okay, that is frickin enough already!

Sam feels his threshold of tolerance start to break, can feel his worry turn to disbelief and is pretty sure that if there had been a mirror close by he would of seen his jaw literally scraping the ground. He practically lunges at his brother, ignoring the jumbled words Dean mutters at him about not swinging that way...about personal space... He targets one pocket, nothing. The other pocket however yields the prize and as he pulls out his hand, his mouth turns into a huge, cheshire cat kinda grin. He can't help but hold the keys in question triumphantly in the air and even decides to give them a good shake to emphasize his victory. Take that Dean! Still smiling, he glares at Dean and makes a declaration.

"Okay Dean, got the keys, now get your ass in the car! We are officially leaving! Now!"

Sam opens up the passenger door, and waits... and waits... and impatiently waits for his brother to get in. He wants to scream, wants to tell Dean to hurry up, move faster, to stop being such a stubborn ass and just get the frick in the car already! What is this, brain surgery? We are so close!

Oh no. What was that? What is Dean doing? Oh great, it sounds like he is what...chuckling? Shit. Chuckling plus Dean plus fever plus who knows what the hell else is going on can only equal one thing. Bad News.

"Sammy. Sam. Dad is gonna frickin FREAK when he gets here and sees you with those keys! God, I wish I had some popcorn because this my friend, this is going to be one hell of a show!"

And then Sam thinks the Impala might as well be 20 miles away.

TBC..


	4. Chapter 4

Sam lets out the biggest sigh EVER and feels his breath quicken and his panic reach a new level. Okay, Sam. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Don't freak out now when you brother so obviously needs you. As he calms himself Sam's mind replays over and over what has happened in such a short period of time. He finds it all so very hard to keep up with. Dad. Hell. Burning marshmellows? It's almost too much. But as he churns the days events over in his mind he thinks about how he is feeling, the confusion of it all, and if he is feeling this way just how confused and out of sorts is his brother feeling? After everything that Dean has done for him, for their dad, for so many people in so many places and facing so many evils so others don't have to, how can Sam even consider giving in to his own emotions when his brother is hurting so badly. As his composure returns, Sam looks into his brother's eyes once more.

"Dad isn't here Dean. It's just the two of us, we came on this hunt alone remember? Please, just get in the car for me so we can call it a night okay?"

A blink. Another blink.

"Oh...just...okay. I guess I forgot."

As Dean's gaze lowers to the ground under his feet and as he mutters away, half to himself, half to Sam, the youngest Winchester unlocks the door to the Impala and carefully ushers his brother inside. Once Dean is safely inside, still lost in his own thoughts, still muttering softly to himself, Sam jogs around to the driver's side, hops in and closes the door. He notices the flinch it causes throughout Dean's body and half expects to be scolded to be more gentle with his baby. He actually finds himself wishing that he would get one of his brother's lectures but the words keep on droning from his brother's lips. Only catching a 'dad' here and a 'dead' there and a 'burning' here, Sam stops and listens, really listens to what his brother is saying. The phrases that he hears making their way out of his brother's mouth shake him to his very core.

"Yeah... I forgot... Right... Right... I forgot."

"Dad's dead Sammy. He's dead isn't he? Dead and gone. But, no... not gone. Dead, and burning... dead, but still burning. How could I forget? Dead. He's dead. Right. Dead, and screaming. Dead. Right...that's right. I killed him."

No sooner are the words out of Dean's mouth than Sam starts the car and speeds off, throwing dust and debris in all directions behind him. He feels the tears flowing freely now and angrily wipes them away from his face. God, it's like Dean is reliving every single bad thing he's experienced over the past few years all at once. No, not bad things, that doesn't do it justice. More like experiencing the worst, soul crushing, heart destroying things that no one should ever, ever go through.

Sam feels like his heart is being ripped right out of his chest. He wants to say something, anything to his brother to get him out of the darkness that is consuming him. He wants to scream at the top of his lungs, at Dean, at his dad, at himself for not realizing just exactly what kind of toll this life has taken on the most important person in the world to him. He wants to look over at his older brother, to reach out to him, to tell him everything is okay and that he just needs to get some rest and it will all be better. But, knowing he is having a hard time believing that load of crap himself, he decides the best thing to do at the moment is to ride on in silence.

As he stares through the window, gaze fixed on the road ahead, Sam's grip on the wheel tightens and tightens as he tries to use it as some kind of emotional anchor. He thinks about the hunt, about the way Dean had once again placed himself betwen him and another spirit bent on exacting a little revenge. He remembers his older brother actually egging the thing on, purposely giving the younger of the two some much needed time to get to the task of salting and burning. Of Dean, daring it to come after him, willing it to focus only on him and him alone. Sam is sure he had heard words like 'ugly bitch' and 'die already' spouted like venom at the creature. He recalls hearing a loud 'whack' followed immediately by a painful moan, again followed by some rather colorful adjectives, as his brother's body and head connect with something solid. Probably a headstone Sam muses, what is it with Dean and those freakin headstones?

Coming out of his thoughts for a moment, Sam checks on his brother. Okay, he's not talking anymore, just kinda staring off out the window. Doing okay for now. Eyes back to the road, his thoughts return to the hunt.

Things had gone a bit bad at that point. His usually cocky and self-assured kickass older brother sounded anything but as he heard him call out. "C'mon Sam. Gotta hurry Sammy." Sam had sensed it was about to be his turn to get up close and personal with this particular spirit, and, expecting a painful confirmation of that at any moment, he felt surprised when he heard his brother's smug and cocky tone return. "Leave me brother alone you undead son of a bitch!"

It was like music to Sam's ears. He chanced a look up from his work then to see his brother's comment had stopped the creature just as it had set its sights on the younger Winchester. Sam watched it as it turned back towards Dean and to Sam it had looked like a weird kind of supernatural showdown. If it was made into a movie it could be called 'Hunter vs. the Hunted'. Sam had tore his eyes away from the two of them and their confrontation and in the few blinks that it took for him to lay down the salt and pour the lighter fluid into the grave, the spirit was on top of Dean again, and managed to deliver another painful blow, this time to his brother's side. He had heard Dean struggle to speak between ragged breaths but he never failed to deliver one of his favourite lines. "That... all you got... bitch?" As Sam had thrown the match he turned to watch as the spirit dissolved with a burst of flame and as Dean slowly dropped to his knees onto the dirt below.

Sam now wonders as he glances over to Dean again, who is now staring at a spot on the dashboard, just what it was that has triggered the floodgates in his mind to open. Was it this latest hit to the head that has all the wires inside jumbled up, or was this hunt, this spirit, the very last in a long line of straws that have been breaking and this was the one to cause the whole house of cards to come crashing down? With the motel only a few miles away now, Sam lets his mind slow down for a moment. He feels worn out and tired and emotionally drained but knows that this is probably going to be one hell of a night for both of them.

As if on cue, out of the corner of his eye, Sam sees Dean as he starts to fidget in his seat, as he clutches and pulls at his head as if he is trying to pull his hair out by the roots. Sam watches as Dean then starts to look around the car and outside wildly as if he is searching for something and just can't seem to find it. Even though they are closing in on the motel, Sam opts to swerve the car to the side of the road so that he can give Dean his full attention. He needs to calm his brother down because the last thing the boys need is for Sam to drive into the ditch or something after being distracted by his brother. Once he slides the gear into park Sam looks over to his brother.

"Woah there Dean. Just relax. The motel is just a few minutes away now."

Dean looks over to his brother, clutches at his head once again and screams.

"Make it STOP! I can't do this anymore! They won't leave me alone! The souls! Dad! Mom! All the people I couldn't save! They are all in here, torturing me! Hating me! They won't leave me alone! Please! STOP! STOP IT! They won't leave me alone until I AM DEAD!"

Sam can see that Dean's head is bleeding again and while he frantically searches his mind for an answer of what to do, he watches as his brother takes down his bloodstained hands, places them in his lap, and stares at them as if seeing them for the first time.

"Calm down Dean. Please. We are going to fix this. Just please try and take it easy, we are almost there. I promise we will figure all of this out together."

The car then seems to be illuminated in a dull light. As Sam looks up from Dean and to the road, he sees a truck cresting over a hill on the other side. The light in the car becomes increasingly brighter as the truck looms closer and closer. Sam looks to Dean again and watches him in amazement as a slight smile graces his face.

"It's a sign Sammy. I know what I have to do. I know how to stop it all now. A sign. Who would have thought that I would see one, that I would know what a sign is. But I do know, and this is it."

Sam's eyebrows furrow in confusion. What is Dean talking about now? What sign?

Then Sam sees it. He almost feels the cogs in his mind start to turn. And he watches...as the scene seems to play out in slow motion. Dean unlocks the car door, the sign is the truck. CLICK goes a cog. Dean grabs the door handle, he has to get over to the truck. CLICK goes another cog. Dean opens the door and gets out of the car, he has to get creamed by the truck to make everything stop. CLICK goes the last cog. The truck is the sign, and that sign is barrelling down the road at 60 miles an hour.

As Sam blinks and realizes that Dean is no longer in the car, he feels a pure rush of adrenaline, scrambles for his own door handle and feels his throat burn as he screams and screams and screams out his brother's name...

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

"DEAN! STOP! DEAN! PLEASE STOP! LISTEN TO ME and STOP!"

Dean has rounded the front of the Impala and seems to be moving at a speed Sam thinks should be impossible considering the physical pain he knows he is in. But his brother looks to be a man on a mission, looks to be hell bent to make a break for the road, and looks to be damned if he is gonna let anyone or anything come betwen him and his supposed 'sign'.

Well, Sam is NOT going to let his brother make it to the road. Out of the car now and knowing he can catch Dean with ease in his current state, Sam take a few steps forward, reaches out, grabs the material of his brother's jacket and spins him around to face him.

"Stop this Dean. There is no sign. You are hurt and confused and not thinking straight. Let me help you fix this."

It happens in an instant. One second Sam is looking at his brother, keeping a vice like grip on his arm while he searches to break through to his tortured mind, the next he reels from the sting, the shock and the pain in his jaw as Dean's fist connects with it. Stars float across his vision and as Sam staggers backwards from the blow, he feels the grip on his brother loosen and then fade completely. Mere moments is all it takes for Sam to shake off the punch and get back in the game but when he focuses on his brother again he sees he has resumed his determined march towards the road ahead.

As he starts off again on this seemingly endless chase to save Dean, Sam glances to the road, to the truck, and wishes the damned thing would either speed up and pass them before his brother has his chance, or slow down so he has time to get to him. When he looks towards Dean, towards the truck and back to Dean again, Sam thinks that, if he didn't know better, all the planets in the entire universe are aligning perfectly to make this scene play out exactly how his big brother wants it to. Sam knows the time to save Dean is growing short. Eyes drift down the road and then the younger Winchester ponders again, maybe not every single planet. He watches the truck as it seems to reduce its speed and Sam takes that opportunity to call out to his brother.

"DEAN!"

As his brother stops briefly, turns, and looks over to him, Sam tries to push down the shiver he feels crawl up his spine and chill his very soul. Not only is he a witness to his older brother actually trying to turn himself into roadkill, the oldest Winchester is doing it with what Sam thinks is the most genuine smile he has seen on Dean's face in what seems like forever. He looks happy. Peaceful. But how can that be? Is the pain of living so great that the only solution is death? He hears Dean's voice then. Hears him speak in the most eerily calm of tones.

"Don't worry Sam. I'm good. I'm feeling really, really good Sammy."

Sam can't help it. He feels a surge of anger bubble up within him and decides it's time to go for the jugular. Do it Sam. 100%. Play that damned Sammy card for all it is worth or your brother is dead. As Dean turns his back to him once more, Sam realizes it truly is now or never. He closes his eyes, takes in a huge breath, opens his eyes to stare at his brother's retreating form and finds that his is screaming at the top of his lungs.

"DEAN! DON'T YOU DO IT! DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE ME BEHIND AGAIN! DON'T YOU DO THAT TO ME! NOT AGAIN! I WILL HATE YOU FOREVER IF YOU LEAVE ME, IF YOU DO THIS! DON'T BE A SELFISH BASTARD!"

No sooner has Sam spewed out those words than he sees it. Dean stops. In mid-step. Stops in his tracks. Believing this to be HIS very own sign, Sam full on sprints to where his brother stands. As he fights to regain control of his breath and of the emotions welling up inside, Sam reaches his shaking hands out to gently touch his brother's back. He feels the sobs wracking throughout him and feels his own tears start to fall. Chancing a quick gaze towards the road, Sam feels a chuckle working its way from his gut to his lips. The truck, the damned truck that just mere moments ago stood as a speeding symbol of Dean's death, now seems to be moving at the speed of a snail. Sam breaks out his best, most enormous ear to ear grin and lets his laughter soar out into the night as he sees the truck's turn signal start to blink and watches as it disappears down a lonely dirt road. Sam turns to his brother and whispers both to himself and to Dean.

"Sorry Dean, the signs say it all. This is so obviously NOT your day to die."

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

The brothers stand in the middle of the road, a road out in the middle of nowhere, and Sam finds he can finally breathe a semi-sort-of sigh of relief. Another bullet dodged he thinks as the close call with the truck flashes across his weary mind. Sensing that his brother's strength has finally left him, the younger brother drapes an arm over Dean's shoulder and gently turns him so they can start the short trek back to the Impala. He looks at Dean's face and notices the streaks of tears mixed with blood streaming in a steady flow down his brother's cheeks, chin and finally sliding off and on to the ground below. The sobs continue to pour out of his brother, seemingly from the very depths of his soul, and Sam squeezes Dean's shoulder that much more. He wants to stop, to yell at Dean and find out just what the hell he is thinking. He wants to stop, pull his brother into the mother of all bear hugs and never let go. Yes, people in the know would call it a 10 on the chick flick moment scale but Sam doesn't care, he just wants, just needs to feel that his brother is still there, still with him. He decides that moment will have to keep until later as the shuffling of feet on ashphalt and those continuing sobs are all that Sam hears in the otherwise stillness of the night. And it's those sobs that compel him to keep going and not give in to the enormous desire to hug his brother, his arm circling his brother will have to be enough for now.

Sam knows the fight has left Dean's body as his brother's pace slows, his gait weakens and he increasingly leans towards Sam. He sees that the darkness his brother so desperately had tried to extinguish has returned, and although he feels terrible for thinking it, at the moment Sam is grateful for that. Dean is much easier to manhandle when he isn't throwing punches or racing towards some kind of imaginary sign. It's when he is in the dark, painful recesses of his own mind, his own memories, his own torture that Sam finds it the easiest to get him to cooperate. As Sam feels Dean's despair crashing in waves over him, Sam starts and keeps up a steady, softly spoken mantra to his brother to try and keep him grounded to this moment and this moment alone.

"It's okay Dean, everything will be okay. I've got you and I won't let you go. You and me, Sammy and Dean, together always. You have been there for me in so many ways for so very long and you need to remember that I am here for you too. You don't have to always be so strong and willing to tackle everything on your own. I am here for you. It's okay Dean, everything is going to be okay. Just trust in me the way I trust in you."

Not expecting or waiting for a response and having reached the car, Sam leads Dean to the passenger side and gets him into his beloved Impala without incident. It is looking to Sam as if his brother is going to succumb to exhaustion at any moment as he sees Dean lean his head against the coolness of the window and shut his eyes within seconds of the door closing. Sam quickly gets into the car and the two brothers head back out on the road to travel the few remaining miles to the motel.

Is it a surge of euphoria that Sam feels as he pulls into the parking lot of the dingy motel and sees the door to their room staring at him invitingly? Yup, he is pretty sure that's the feeling. He's never been so glad to see a motel in his life! He chuckles and wonders who would have thought he would ever get this excited to see a dump of this scale come into focus? He turns towards Dean and figures by the looks of him that his older brother is now out cold. Sam takes this moment to get out of the car, and as he stretches his legs he delicately places a couple of fingers on his jaw. He can't wait to give Dean shit for that sucker punch. Smiling a bit to himself at that thought, Sam retrieves their bags out of the car, opens the door to the motel room and throws them on the floor. As his brothers head is most likely going to be pounding a light-hating beat, he opts to turn on only the bathroom light to illuminate the room just enough to see where he is going. Turning down the covers on the bed furthest away from the door, Sam gets set to lug his big brother inside.

After everything that has happened over just the past few hours, Sam half expects to see an empty seat where Dean had been resting just moments before. Much to Sam's delight however, as he steps out of the motel room and eyes the car ahead, his brother remains in the exact same position he was left in. Thank God for that at least. Crossing over to the car door, Sam ponders just what the best method would be to get his brother from the car to the room. It seems like such a small task to accomplish but as Sam has discovered time and time again on what is turning out to be the longest night in history, he won't assume that anything at this moment in time would or could be simple.

As he looks at Dean's face and watches his breath fog up the window, Sam reaches out to tap lightly on it. He thinks that it will take much more than that to get his brothers attention when to him it looks like an earthquake wouldn't faze him, and so Sam feels a slight flutter of surprise when Dean flinches at the sound. Tilting his head up and peering through half lidded and glazed over eyes, Sam watches and waits as Dean's focus finally rests on his younger brother's face. Sam offers him a worried but genuine smile and moves to open the door. The youngest Winchester leans inside slightly and speaks slowly and carefully to his brother.

"We're here now Dean. Time to get you inside."

"Sure S'my...S'my, wha' hppn?"

"Nothing for you to worry about right now Dean."

Without further explanation, Sam extends his arm and Dean grasps it, although weakly, and Sam pulls him from the car. Even though Sam keeps his arm firmly in place on his brothers, he feels Dean stumble as his legs decide enough is enough, decide they don't want to support this weight anymore and as a result they buckle and Dean crashes to the ground with a thud and a moan. Sam sighs, stops to get a better hold around his brother, lifts him up and pretty much carries him through the door of their room. Once inside he closes the door softly, delicately places his brother on the bed and observes Dean as he instantly collapses into the mattress and shuts his eyes.

"Not so fast dude, first things first, we need to get you out of your jacket and boots and then give you the once over."

"Head, hrts. Side, hrts. Don' wanna move. Check mornin. Need sleep. So tired S'my. So tired."

While Dean continues to mutter and ramble slurred and disconnected words and phrases, Sam moves to until and get his brothers boots off as he tries to keep him awake.

"No can do Dean, you took a pretty good beating out there today and you know the drill. No resting until all the wounds are checked and cleaned. I promise, you can sleep as long as you want once I am sure you're good. I'll help you up and we'll get this over as quick as we can okay?"

"Whatvr u say Sammmmmantha... Just make quick k? don' feel good. wanna sleep for week. stay here.. not move. what wrong with m'head? feel funny. and cold. why so cold? What happn?"

Seeing that Dean is actually look at him for the answers, Sam decides to indulge him. "Oh, you know, the usual stuff. Spirit. Spirit out for revenge. Decrepit old graveyard. You looking out for me. Looking out for me by putting yourself between me and the spirit. You pissing off the spirit, followed by your head coming in contact with a headstone. Etc. Etc. Etc... Just another day at the office."

"Don' member much. Out of it? You hurt?"

"Nope, as usual I am fine, you always make sure of that don't you? Always saving me, never thinking about yourself, always saving. Anyways, I am pretty sure that you have a nasty cut on your head, maybe even a concussion and i'd say you are looking at at least a few bruised ribs. That's probably not all, i'm also thinking fever and hallucinations too. So, we need to get a good look. Quit stalling, let's sit you up, patch you up, give you some pain pills and some water and then we can both get some well-deserved rest."

"Ya, sounds good." Taking that as his invite to move his brother, Sam helps him up into a sitting position and carefully leans him against the headboard.

"Just stay here, right here, in THIS spot. I'll be right back with the make-you-all-better supplies." With a smirk Sam heads off to the duffle bags.

"OK... k... quit naggin' 'n hurry up ahready. Bitch."

Bitch. That one word really is like music to Sam's ears. As the smile shines brightly on his face after being called what most would consider an unfriendly name, it quickly fades. Sam is heading back to the bed when he watches as what started out as a small chuckle at his own hilariousness finds Dean having to swing his legs over the bed, grip the mattress on either side of him and lean over as an unrelenting series of coughs and sputters take over his entire being. Sam feels the onset of a panic attack stirring in his brother as Dean's body heaves and he tries desperately to get air that isn't coming into his lungs. Quickly kneeling in front of his older brother, Sam grabs one of Dean's hands, places it firmly on his own chest and covers it with his own.

"Dean, you need to get your breathing under control or you are going to pass out. Just follow me. Feel the rise and fall of my chest, feel the rhythm. Follow it. Follow me. Concentrate on nothing but your breathing. Breathe with me. Your doing great. That's it. In. And out. In. And out. Good. You are doing really good Dean. Just relax and the air will come. That's it. Good. In and out. In and out."

After a few minutes of steady reassurances and constant contact with his brother, Dean's breath evens out and Sam is now more than ready to get his brother checked out so Dean can get the rest that his body is definitely demanding from him now. Sam reaches up to remove Dean's hand from his chest so he can get the supplies out but feels his brother lift his own hands to stop Sam from going anywhere.

"No S'm. Don't go. Mmmm s'ry. Tried to save. Couldn't. Stay. Don' leave me alone. Mmm s'ry. Don' hate me S'my. Please?"

Looking into Dean's eyes Sam sees fear. Pure, raw, uncontrollable fear. Fevered eyes gaze at him as they brim with unshed tears and anguish. So, Sam doesn't leave, he doesn't go get the supplies, but he takes this moment, this moment in this rundown motel room in the middle of anywhere USA to use this rare opportunity to comfort his brother. As his usually smug, cocky, self-assured, kickass brother desperately clings to him, Sam takes the plunge and embraces his brother in that over the top, 10 on the chick flick scale mother of all hugs and lets his brother know without saying a word that he is never, ever going to leave him.


End file.
